


Worth the Risk

by Moriavis



Series: Take As Directed [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, accidental feelings, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 20:24:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12417510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moriavis/pseuds/Moriavis
Summary: Barry returns the clothes Len let him borrow and gets exactly what he hoped for.





	Worth the Risk

**Author's Note:**

> Ha. Okay, first, this is the sequel to [A Cold Encounter](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8581108). I don't think it's necessary to read that one first, but there are a few small details shared between the two fics.
> 
> Second, I started writing this in November of 2016. Why did it take me almost a full year? IDEK. I'm just glad it's finally done, so I can stop feeling so damned guilty. /o\
> 
> Third, thanks go to saekhwa, as always. She makes everything I do a thousand times better.
> 
> And finally: this is all porn. Talking and porn.

~*~

Barry watched Snart leave Saints and Sinners, breathing a small sigh of relief that he was finally heading out. Barry didn't exactly like the fact that he was pretty much a stalker, but it beat checking every building in Central or waiting until Snart stole something again.

He darted after Snart in small bursts of movement, following him to a small warehouse next to a broken down and vandalized old bodega. Then he waited across the street. The clothes Snart had lent him were in a bag hanging from his shoulder, and his heart was thrumming with low-level anxiety as he tried to talk himself out of the whole idea. He'd have to be upfront with the fact that he followed Snart. Snart wouldn't like it, but maybe if Barry was honest about the whole thing, he wouldn't mind so much. Who was Barry kidding? Going home would be a much better option on all counts.

He crossed the street. 

"I just came to return your clothes," he recited. "And to say thank you." 

He exhaled a loud breath and came to a stop in front of the warehouse door, raising his hand to knock. The door opened before the first knock had even landed, and Barry blinked as he stared down the barrel of the cold gun. 

"I come in peace!" He raised his hands in surrender and forced himself to look away from the glowing edges of the cold gun. 

Snart's expression was neutral, but his eyes were narrow and sharp on Barry's face. "You followed me from Saints and Sinners," he drawled, pressing the barrel of the cold gun against Barry's shoulder and giving him a little shove. "Don't appreciate being tailed."

Barry cleared his throat. "It's not like I can just call you up." He carefully lowered his hands, keeping them in Snart's view. "I came to return your clothes. Could you stop pointing that at me? Any time?"

Snart looked at the bag on Barry's shoulder, his finger still resting on the trigger of his cold gun, but after another moment's consideration, he carefully tilted the barrel up and away. "Keep 'em."

"And I wanted to say thank you." Barry stared at Snart stubbornly, his mind racing for something else to say.

"You're thanking me for kidnapping you?" 

Snart arched his eyebrow, and Barry held in his annoyed sigh at how deliberately obtuse Snart was being.

He held Snart's eyes as inspiration struck him and coughed once, deliberately. "I'm sick and miserable, Snart. Least you could do is lend me your couch again." He coughed twice more for good measure. 

Snart stared at Barry for so long that Barry half expected the door to slam shut in his face. Instead, Snart just continued to look at him, searching his face for — Barry didn't know what — until something about him softened. The way his shoulders curved. The small, rueful smile on his face. 

"Knew I was going to regret that."

Barry stopped coughing, letting his smile fade before he took a deep breath. He could admit now, without the fever fogging his mind, that Snart was appealing, with the intensity of his blue eyes, the trim line of his body in black jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt. He drew his eyes back up to Snart's face and reached for Snart's hand, still curled around the handle of the cold gun. He brushed his fingers over Snart's knuckles. 

"Let me in."

Snart averted his eyes, tension drawing between them as he watched Barry's hand. In the next second, he pulled away, holstering the cold gun, and moved further into the warehouse. "Come on."

Barry darted forward, taking the invitation before it could be rescinded, and closed the door behind him. They were in what might have been the office originally, and there were two more doors that he could see, one leading further into the office suite. Snart bypassed that door, and Barry followed him through the second door into the main storage area, huge and empty, and into another side room. The silence made Barry edgy, and once again, he asked himself what the hell he was doing here, what he actually hoped to accomplish. Then Snart cut a look at Barry from the corner of his eye and gestured Barry forward with a small, playful flourish.

Stepping into this room after the almost abandoned air that shrouded the rest of the warehouse was a surprise, and Barry stopped to take it in. This place looked lived in, with a coffee table and a sofa taking the majority of the room. There wasn't a television, but there was a laptop, sitting closed on the coffee table. There was a room with the door half closed — it looked like it might have been a bedroom, so Barry didn't look too hard, looking instead at some paintings on the floor, leaned against the wall.

"Satisfied?" Snart's voice was soft, his breath stirring the fine hairs on the back of Barry's neck and making him shiver.

Barry swallowed and nodded, hyper-aware now of Snart behind him, close enough that he could feel the heat rising from Snart's body. "So, uh." He cleared his throat, nervousness rising beneath his skin. "How'd you know I was following you?"

"You have a very distinctive lightning trail." 

Snart pulled away, and Barry inhaled, turning to watch him move across the room. There was a draft table off to the left, with some blueprints that Barry didn't recognize, but Snart pulled a sheet down over the surface as he passed. Barry was tempted to flash over there and steal a peek, but he remained still, a little queasy at the idea of taking advantage of Snart's hospitality. 

"It's easy to see when you know what to look for."

"Right." Barry swallowed and let the bag holding his borrowed clothes slide down his arm until he caught the strap in his hand and offered the bag to Snart. "I washed these. Thanks for letting me borrow them." 

Snart inclined his head but left Barry holding it out, so he awkwardly set it on the floor next to the coffee table instead.

"What are you really here for?" Snart's voice was soft, neutral. He raised his hand and inspected his fingernails. "You're not actually here for my couch, so. Supervillains? Not making it my problem this time. Long as they stay out of my way, I'm going to stay out of theirs."

Barry blinked. "Wait, you think I'm here to ask for help?"

Snart tilted his head, his eyes narrowed and focused on Barry. "That's usually how these meetings go."

"No." Barry shook his head as he tried to figure out what he was going to say. There was too much space between them, Snart having positioned himself in the corner farthest away from Barry, and Barry stepped closer, slow, like he was trying to soothe a feral cat. "No, I didn't come here to ask for your help." 

Snart watched Barry move closer, unblinking, and it made Barry's pulse pick up again. He missed the affection that he thought he'd seen in Snart's eyes, and that told Barry exactly how bad he had it. 

"I don't need your help, and you don't need my help. Why are you here?"

"Do I need an excuse to visit an old friend?" Barry knew it was the wrong thing to say the instant he said it, knew it when the curve of Snart's smirk flattened, his eyes glittering. 

"Is _that_ what we are?" Snart leaned against the wall again, folding his arms over his chest.

This was it. Barry could lie, could back down and not mention anything, leave Snart glaring at him and pretend the attraction between them didn't exist. He could. "I'm here because you took care of me when you didn't have to," he said eventually. "I'm here because… I've got a thing about you. And maybe I'm hoping you've got a thing about me, too."

Snart inclined his head as he pushed away from the wall. There was tension in his shoulders, a sort of defensiveness in the way he was standing that Barry couldn't help but notice. "We've always had a thing, kid. Kinda surprised you're bringing it up."

Barry nodded and licked his lips. "Let's just say, uh. A lot of things have happened." He took a step closer, lowering his eyes to the line of the couch before he looked back at Snart, gathering his courage. "A year ago, I probably wouldn't have said anything." He thought, again, of pushing Snart against the fireplace, the way they'd fit so close together that he'd been able to smell the stolen hot chocolate on Snart's breath. "A year ago, I didn't." Another step, then, easing his way into Snart's space. It was agonizing. It was exciting. "Are you jealous?"

"Jealous of what? Time?" Snart snorted. "Think you're so mature? That I don't remember the way you were before?" He hummed, taking the last step that closed the distance between them, and raised his hands to cup Barry's jaw. The delicate contact of Snart's fingertips curled against the back of Barry's neck caused a gentle shiver to ripple down Barry's spine. "No. But you want me to be."

Barry pushed against Snart's hands and rubbed his nose against Snart's cheek, inhaling a shaky breath. No peppermint this time, just smoke from the bar, a tang of alcohol, so different from anyone else he'd been this close to that arousal knotted in Barry's gut. Snart didn't move, letting Barry feel his way forward, and Barry licked his lips, felt the hitch of Snart's breath against the dampness of his mouth. 

"You're right. I do," he said.

Snart smirked, and Barry tilted his head, taking a second to figure out his angle. Snart still wasn't moving, even though it was obvious what Barry wanted, and Barry growled in annoyance before he took the last scant inch of space between them.

Barry's heart was already racing when he kissed Snart, his mind moving just as fast, examining and discarding his options — closed mouth was too chaste, a peck would be too easy to brush off — and he decided to dart his tongue out against the curve of Snart's bottom lip, to set his teeth there just to feel the little indentation left behind. For several seconds, Snart didn't respond, and Barry's heart shot into his throat before he realized that he was going too fast, that Snart wasn't kissing him back because he probably hadn't registered that Barry was kissing him at all. 

Barry forced himself to slow down, to settle his hands on Snart's sides and breathe, and Snart caught up, his hands tightening over Barry's nape as he guided the kiss. Just a small adjustment to fit their mouths together even better than before, and they traded open-mouthed, soft kisses, unhurried and languid; Snart slid his hand down from the back of Barry's neck, following the line of Barry's spine until his hand found purchase in the dip at the small of Barry's back, leaving another ripple of shivers racing down Barry's spine. 

Then Snart pulled back, giving them room to breathe, and Barry opened his eyes. He relaxed his hands, which at some point had tightened into fists against Snart's shirt, and curled his fingers against the back of Snart's neck instead. Snart's short hair scraped against Barry's knuckles, and Barry smiled, rubbing his fingers in gentle circles, tingling all over at the sheer intimacy. He could feel Snart press back into his hands, just a little, and Barry leaned in again, unwilling to relinquish the ground he'd won. 

"What are you thinking, Snart?"

"I'm thinking," Snart drawled, "if you're going to kiss me like that, you should call me Len."

"Len." Bone-deep satisfaction at the sound, so Barry said it again, drawing it out a touch longer.

Len blinked, his eyes heavy on Barry's face. "What next?"

For a minute, Barry didn't know what Len was talking about, and he flushed, his face prickling with heat as he struggled to regain his footing. "I— Coffee? Maybe? Do you drink coffee? We could have dinner or—"

"A date." Len laughed, soft, like he actually found the suggestion funny, and Barry tried to swallow around the anxiety tightening his throat.

"Yeah." He nodded. He couldn't resist looking at Len's mouth again, entranced by how flushed and inviting Len appeared. Was wanting to kiss someone for a couple of hours a problem? "Or kissing. Kissing's good, too."

"Kissing. Cute." Len grinned, fierce and immediate, and he kissed Barry again, harder, his hand still a comfortable weight resting on the small of Barry's back. 

He pulled Barry closer, and Barry followed, sighing a little as he slid his tongue through Len's parted lips. Len was a good kisser, and Barry loved the way their mouths fit together, how he didn't have to bend down to reach him. He really, really had to thank Jesse. He had no idea he had a thing, and this was a really, really good thing.

Barry let his hands drift down the length of Len's arms, his stomach tightening as he explored the muscles of Len's forearms. Len had nice arms. Why hadn't Barry noticed before?

Len caught Barry's wrist, the circle of his fingers delicate, and he reached up with his other hand, cupping Barry's cheek and stroking his thumb over Barry's bottom lip. Barry shivered. 

"How far are we taking this tonight?"

"I…" Barry licked his lips, watching when Len's gaze dropped to his mouth, his pupils dilating. It was powerful, seeing the effect he had on Len, and he smiled, arching against Len to feel — Okay, yeah, Len was definitely happy to see him. "I guess that depends on if you'll respect me in the morning."

"I've always respected you," Len murmured, and the purr of his voice, the warmth of his breath conspired against Barry, a combination that curled arousal in his gut and made his legs weak. "Just because you're naive doesn't make it any less real."

"Naive." Barry tilted his head as he thought about it, even as he pulled his hand out of Len's grasp and dragged his fingers over Len's head, just because he liked the way Len's hair felt against his palms. "Does that mean all this is a trap and I should run while I can?"

Len cupped the back of Barry's head in both hands, tugging at Barry's hair, and Barry's eyes fluttered closed, a groan rumbling from his throat as a shiver of heat shot straight down to his toes. "No traps today. Just you and me." 

Len stole another kiss, chuckling against Barry's mouth when Barry eagerly melted against him, and they took a slow careful step together, Len guiding Barry backwards toward the room he hadn't seen clearly. Definitely a bedroom, then. He hoped. 

Barry grasped for Len's shirt, taking the time to learn the texture of the fabric, the soft, worn comfort of it, and he grinned again, a laugh catching in his throat. "I'm feeling lucky tonight."

Len smirked, his hands sliding down Barry's back, cupping Barry's ass and squeezing as he pulled Barry into a slow grind. "Me, too." 

Len kissed him again, swallowing Barry's gasp, and then pushed the bedroom door open. Barry was the one who broke their kiss that time, needing to satisfy the urge to poke his nose into the places Len claimed as his. The bedroom was neat, the bed made and nothing on the floor but a rug to fight against the cold of the cement. Barry looked back at Len and smirked, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it, not caring where it landed. The brief flare of pleasure he got at being contrary paled in comparison to how he felt when Len pulled him close again, dropping his head to Barry's shoulder and smearing a kiss there before he mouthed at Barry's throat.

"You're a mess."

Len's fingers teased the waistband of Barry's jeans before he slid them up Barry's sides, warmer than Barry remembered them. It made Barry shiver pleasantly, and he used his speed to kick off his shoes. He wanted to touch Len everywhere, wanted to keep kissing him—

Len tripped over Barry's discarded shoes, and they tumbled to the bed in a tangled pile of limbs.

Barry's breath was completely knocked out of him, and he gasped for a few seconds before he ran his hands over Len's shoulders. "Oh my god, are you okay?"

Len shook against Barry, huffing a breathless laugh against the curve of Barry's throat, and then he pulled away, adjusting his weight so that he wasn't resting entirely on Barry. The sound of Len's laugh made heat curl low in Barry's belly — there it was, that softness Barry hadn't quite thought was real. 

"I shouldn't be surprised," Len said finally, his smile fading back into his customary smirk. "You left your suit in a pile on my bathroom floor. Don't know what I expected."

Barry set his palm to the bed and pushed himself up to take another kiss, exhaling a shuddering breath when Len caressed his stomach, moving his fingers up and over Barry's chest as if he was trying to learn the feeling of Barry's skin. Len kissed the corner of Barry's mouth, trailed his lips over to the soft spot at the juncture of Barry's jaw, and set his teeth there before he moved lower, sucking at Barry's pulse. 

Barry curled his free arm around Len's shoulders, sensing more than feeling Len withdraw a little at the touch, his shoulders bunching tight under Barry's hands. 

"Are you—" _Okay_ , was what Barry wanted to ask again, but then Len bit harder, dragging a low, rough moan from his throat. "Clothes," Barry breathed. "They really need to be off. Please." 

Len pulled away, his eyes narrow and intense on Barry's face, and shifted to sit down on the edge of the bed, bending to work at the laces of his boots. Barry rose to his knees behind Len and nuzzled close, pressing his nose against the line of Len's jaw. He felt Len's throat work beneath his lips and smiled, curling his arms around Len's torso.

Len let Barry cling to his back, and Barry squeezed him tighter in appreciation, releasing Len only when he reached down to tug his boots off. 

"Okay." He twisted around to catch Barry's eye, pushing Barry back before he climbed to his knees and prowled over Barry, straddling Barry's thighs. "What do you want to do?"

Barry flopped back against the bed, biting his lip as he looked up at Len. "Everything." 

Len arched his eyebrow, and Barry cleared his throat in response. 

"I mean, I'll follow your lead. I think you've got more experience."

Len snorted, cocking his head to the side. "Don't sell yourself short." 

He raked a hungry look over Barry's body, and Barry flushed in reaction, shifting beneath his weight. Len dragged his fingers down Barry's chest again, feeling the outline of muscles and ribs, and Barry arched into the touch, half-hard just from anticipation. Len was staring at him like he couldn't believe his good luck, his fingers playing at the waistband of Barry's jeans again before sweeping up the line of Barry's abdomen in another lazy caress. 

"Carte blanche, hmm? I hardly know what to do with myself."

"Well, hopefully"—Barry set his hands on Len's thighs and squeezed—"you'll know what to do with me." 

Len looked down at Barry, his eyes shielded by the veil of his eyelashes, and leaned forward, drawing Barry's hands from his thighs and easing up, covering Barry from shoulder to thigh with his weight and pushing him back against the mattress. Barry sucked in a breath and allowed Len to press his wrists down against the mattress. He could feel goosebumps crawl up his arms, and he squeezed Len's hips between his thighs, his breath catching in his throat when Len rocked against him, hard in his jeans. There was something heady about having such obvious evidence of Len's arousal, and when he leaned up again, desperate for another kiss, Len bent down to meet him.

Each time they kissed, there was a little less tension in Len, a little less control, so Barry parted his lips in invitation, shuddering at the greedy thrust of Len's tongue, the way he curled inside and devoured Barry's mouth like he couldn't get enough. Len gripped Barry's hip, his fingers clenching hard in the denim of his jeans, and he ground down against Barry again, making Barry gasp against Len's lips. When Len pulled away, Barry tried to follow, and Len smirked, planting a hand in the center of Barry's chest to hold him down. He took a second to lean to the left, twisting over Barry's body and reaching for the simple night table at the side of the bed. He opened the drawer and — after just a second or two of searching — withdrew lube and a box of condoms, setting them down to Barry's left.

"Trying to tell me something?" Barry teased, looking over at the box of condoms and then back up at Len.

Len smirked and eased back down the bed, his movement slow, almost feline. He licked a line up Barry's chest and reached between them to palm Barry's cock, hard and uncomfortable in the restraint of his jeans. Barry bucked up into the weight of Len's hand, hissing out another breath and he raised up on his elbows to watch Len, his fingers itching to do more than clutch at air or blankets. 

"You're fast. Maybe fast in more ways than one. Having extra condoms can't hurt."

Barry snorted indignantly and glared at Len. "You insult everyone you sleep with?"

Len grinned. "Only the fun ones." 

He leaned down and swiped his tongue against Barry's nipple before he bit, making Barry arch and gasp in surprise. He hummed in pleasure and dragged his teeth over Barry's stomach, his eyes glued to Barry's as he watched Barry shift and thrust his hips up against Len's palm.

Watching Len look back at him was too much, so Barry slumped back to the bed and squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing his face in his hands as he tried to steady his breathing, tried to remember what he was doing before Len distracted him with his mouth and tongue and hands. 

"Okay. Okay. Clothes," Barry said. 

He swallowed, trembling all over with nervous energy as he tried to keep still. He felt Len pause, hesitation written in the tension of his body, and Barry opened his eyes again. 

"Please." 

He sat up, Len re-situating his balance and kneeling between Barry's thighs, and Barry took advantage, grabbing the bottom of Len's shirt and peeling the tight black fabric upward. Len raised his arms, helping Barry strip his shirt off, and then Barry got his first good look at Len's torso, a gasp catching in his throat again.

Len's skin was covered in scars, and Barry couldn't stop looking, his brain cataloging each one in an instant — that one was a gunshot wound against his shoulder, round, a little crater in his skin; scars from knives, long and serrated — Barry raised his hand and traced a faded scar, left years ago, by… cigarettes maybe? Or...

Len tilted Barry's chin up and dropped a kiss to Barry's mouth. "You okay?"

Barry nodded, flattening his hand over Len's chest and exploring the texture of his skin. "I thought you'd have tattoos."

Len shook his head. "I don't like people reading me that easy."

"I like it." Barry kissed Len's shoulder and coasted his hands up Len's sides, tracing every scar he came across with his fingertips.

Len pulled far enough away for Barry to see his bemused expression. "You like my scars? Pervert."

Barry grinned. "Cradle robber."

Len grinned back and hooked his hand around the back of Barry's neck, pulling him in for another kiss. Barry gripped Len's arm, fingers digging into the muscle, his other hand cupping Len's chin to keep them connected. He was hungry for it, for the heat of Len's lips, the nimble weight of his tongue. Len guided Barry back again and mouthed at Barry's shoulder, his chest, his stomach, sucking a warm, wet path against his skin. Barry shuddered and gasped, digging his nails into Len's shoulders when Len finally, _finally_ started unbuttoning his fly. He arched and shimmied his way out of his jeans, biting back a sound when he felt Len's hands curl around the back of his knees.

He could feel the heat of Len's breath as he nuzzled Barry's hip, and he was struck with an abrupt shyness. What if — what if he wasn't _big_ enough? What if he was _too_ big? He knew that some girls tended to be size queens, and it seemed reasonable that guys would be the same way and—

Len looked up, catching Barry's eyes, and curled his thumbs in the elastic of Barry's boxers. "Stop thinking so much."

Barry flushed hotter but refused to look away. "What? You're the only one allowed to think?"

Len smirked, and then turned his face to the crease of Barry's hip as he continued to tug down Barry's underwear. He licked at the sensitive skin there, looking up at Barry again. "Yeah. If you're thinking, I'm not doing something right." 

Len pressed a line of kisses to Barry's inner thigh, goosebumps rising beneath the warmth of his mouth, and he smirked again, scraping his teeth against Barry's knee before he reached for the lube and a condom. Len tapped the condom foil against Barry's hip before he set it on Barry's stomach and then turned the small container of lube over in his hands before he popped open the lid.

"I've got my powers back." Barry licked his lips, his throat drying with nervousness. "We don't need condoms. I don't get sick."

Len hummed at that, slicking his fingers with lube. "Not the only reason to use condoms, Barry." 

Barry tensed a little, waiting for some anger, maybe some annoyance, but Len just kept moving slow and sure, curling his fingers around Barry's cock and stroking him from root to tip. 

"You always say my name like you're scolding me." 

Barry fought against the urge to rock his hips into the squeeze of Len's fingers, his skin lighting up with sensation. Len was a tease, but even with their banter distracting them, he moved with certainty, stoking Barry's arousal like a flame. And Len's fingers, long and precise and lightly callused, made anticipation tighten Barry's body, his toes curling in the sheets.

"Maybe I like the way you get all indignant." Len flashed a grin up at Barry, his face framed by Barry's thighs, and he watched Barry as he slid the condom down Barry's erection. He looked down at Barry's cock as he rubbed his thumbs in soothing circles against Barry's inner thighs. It happened fast, considering normal, human speed — one moment waiting, teased, and the next the heat of Len's mouth, the suction Barry had so desperately craved — but to Barry it was a crawl, the moment slowing down, his brain speeding up to take in every millisecond. Len's half closed eyes, the lushness of his mouth over Barry's erection, the way his cheeks were flushed. It was almost too much already, and Barry sucked in a harsh breath, trying to get his mind to slow down. When he convinced himself to rejoin the moment, Len still hadn't taken more than the head of Barry's cock into his mouth. Barry was going to die if he kept doing that. Just shut down and be nothing but a drooling idiot, all because of Leonard Snart's mouth.

Len pulled off Barry's cock with a soft pop of sound, and he smirked, looking up the length of Barry's body to catch his gaze again. "You vibrated. How about you stay with me and quit spacing out?"

Len reached out with his right hand and caught Barry's fingers, letting Barry gratefully squeeze his wrist, the physical contact grounding Barry in a way the beginning of the blowjob hadn't. 

Barry smiled shyly. "Got overexcited. Sorry."

"I know how to take my compliments." 

Len guided one of Barry's legs up and over his shoulder and tried again, closing his eyes as he took Barry back into his mouth. Barry rubbed his thumb over Len's pulse, torn between wanting to close his eyes and wanting to watch every expression cross Len's face. Len's cheeks hollowed with the suction of his lips and mouth around Barry, and the way he moved made Barry's throat go dry, the way satisfaction shone in his eyes every time he looked Barry's way.

Barry felt like he was feverish again, lightheaded and breathless, and he thrust his hips, wanting more. Len sucked harder, pulling his hand away from Barry's to push Barry's hips down against the bed, his fingers hard and unyielding. If Barry had been normal, he would have had bruises to look forward to in the morning. He whined unhappily at the thought that he never would, not with his powers, and— Len sucked hard as he slid up the length of Barry's erection and bobbed even slower back down. He flicked a look up at Barry through his eyelashes again, and Barry swallowed, his thoughts stuttering to a stop.

"Damn it, Len, will you just—" He cupped his hand around Len's neck, impatiently drawing Len forward to meet his thrust, and he shuddered all over at the flutter of Len's throat around the head of his cock, how Len didn't fight, hardly needing any encouragement before he swallowed Barry down to the root. "How— I—" 

Barry dropped his hands to Len's shoulders, trying to tug him up so he could get a kiss, and he moaned helplessly when Len followed his lead in that, too, slinking up Barry's body. Len's scars scraped lines of sensation against Barry's skin and he hummed as Len kissed him, curling his arms around Len's shoulders to keep him close.

Len licked into Barry's mouth, arching up and squeezing his hand between their bodies as they kissed, the heat of Len's mouth distracting Barry until the moment Len's fingers curled around his cock and squeezed. Len seemed as single-minded in the bedroom as he was during a heist, and there was something in the way he looked at Barry, the way he broke their kiss only to nip at the yielding line of Barry's throat, and it made Barry's heart throb wildly in his chest, finally finding the bravery to touch Len back instead of clinging uselessly.

Len shivered as Barry slid his hands down Len's back, feeling out each rough, scarred line of Len's body, and Len bit at Barry's bottom lip in retaliation. Barry kind've liked Len over him, his body heat soaking into him, the weight that pressed him down whenever Len's hand slipped from where he braced it on the bed. His clever, clever fingers squeezing around him and stroking, making him tense in anticipation the closer he got to the edge of his climax. Len trailed his lips over Barry's cheek sucking a path to the hollow behind Barry's ear, nuzzling at his skin and sucking on Barry's earlobe in a way that made Barry go weak. 

"C'mon, Barry. There are things I can't wait to do to you," Len whispered, his voice like silk in Barry's ear, and Barry laughed.

"You really can't shut up, can you?" Barry gasped, still half-laughing, his toes curling against the small of Len's back. 

Len pulled just far enough away to stare down at Barry, his damp, red mouth curling into a smirk, his eyes bright and stark and blue in his face. It was that look that pushed Barry over, the knot of pleasure and anticipation lodged in his gut unfurling as he came, Len's hand stroking him through the pulsing and twitching of his body. Len worked Barry through his aftershocks until Barry shoved his face into the curve of Len's throat and squeezed his legs around Len's wrist. Len hummed, pulling away and pushing Barry's legs open again so he could peel off the condom. Barry whined in protest, reaching out to grab Len's arm. Len evaded him, huffing a small laugh as he backed off the bed, knotting the condom and throwing it away.

Barry reached out and caught Len by his belt when he finally came close enough again, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed as he worked Len's belt free of his jeans. "Can't believe you're still wearing these."

"You haven't given me a reason to take them off." 

Len grinned down at Barry, and Barry licked a line over Len's navel as he unbuttoned Len's jeans and pulled them down. Barry moaned, almost embarrassingly eager, and hid his flushed face against Len's stomach, curling his arms around the back of Len's thighs to hold him tight, as though that would stop Len from asking any questions. Len had just a touch of softness around his middle that Barry loved discovering, unable to resist rubbing his cheek against Len's belly. Len stroked his fingers through Barry's hair, and Barry looked up at him, their eyes locking as Barry peeled down Len's briefs. Barry couldn't look away, cataloging every twitch of Len's cheek, the neutral set of his mouth. Only Len's eyes gave away anything, pupils dilated as he stared down at Barry. 

Barry took his time learning the shape of Len — Barry was a little longer, and he would die before he admitted it, but he was grateful Len didn't have some mutant monster cock — and then he grinned, swiping his tongue playfully over the head of Len's dick to catch the drop of bitter fluid that had welled up from the slit. Len's hand tightened in Barry's hair, pulling him just far enough that he couldn't do it again. It made Barry's scalp tingle, and his lips parted in surprise, a flush rising on his cheeks again as he turned his head, pulling against Len's grip even as Len tightened his hold and yanked Barry back into place.

"You want it rough, kid, I'll give it to you rough." 

Len tugged Barry's hair again, his eyes narrowing as he watched Barry's reaction. Barry wasn't sure if the scrutiny or the hair pulling was a bigger turn on, but his gut tightened again, his dick twitching in response to Len's promise. 

"But the condoms are there for a reason." 

Barry rolled his eyes, but obediently reached behind him for a condom, ripping the foil open. He paused, then, reaching out to caress Len's length for the first time, mapping all the differences between them out by feel. 

Len was hard to the touch, the head flushed dark with blood. Barry curled his hand around Len's erection and held him for a second, just to appreciate the heat of his skin, the throb of Len's pulse against his palm. Len's arms grew taut as Barry explored, and another drop of clear precome beaded in the slit. It made Barry's mouth water, and Barry carefully rolled the condom over Len before Len warned him about safe sex again. Len hissed a breath as Barry squeezed the base of his erection to make sure the condom was on well enough, and Len's eyes darkened into a stormy blue hazel as he watched, his hands coming up once again to cradle the back of Barry's head, his thumbs pressing against the soft spots behind the hinge of Barry's jaw. "Open your mouth. No teeth."

Barry swallowed and licked his lips before he followed Len's instructions, opening his mouth and letting his head rest into the cradle of Len's hands. He curled his hands around the back of Len's thighs, kneading the muscles in restless excitement as Len stepped closer and rolled his hips, nudging the blunt head of his cock into Barry's mouth. It took Barry a moment to get situated, to keep his teeth safe behind his lips, but Len was patient, moving with a slow, shallow thrust that Barry could relax into, and he practiced trying not to choke on his own saliva as he moved his tongue along the line of Len's cock. Len kept Barry's head still, one hand still curved around Barry's jaw, the other feathering through Barry's hair, petting him as if it was a reward as he pressed in and drew back. Len's cock felt thicker and blunter in Barry's mouth than it had looked — there was hardly any room for his tongue to move, and he was afraid of swallowing his spit because he didn't want to choke, but there wasn't anywhere else he'd rather be.

He dug his fingers into Len's thighs and closed his eyes, breathing through his nose as Len rocked his hips. The sound of Len pushing into Barry's mouth and the pounding of his thundering heartbeat were the only thing he could hear, and it made Barry grow hotter as he swallowed convulsively, trying to keep his spit from dripping down his chin. The motion rubbed the head of Len's cock against the roof of Barry's mouth, and Len's hand twitched where it rested on Barry's hair. 

"Look at me." 

Barry's eyes snapped up to Len's face, locking with Len's gaze again, feeling the molten and intense stare down to his bones. Len wasn't quite smirking as he rubbed his thumb over Barry's chin, wiping him dry, but it was a close thing. For a moment it looked like Len was going to say something else, but instead he just shook his head and licked his lips. Barry swallowed again, focusing on the taste of the condom, the shape of Len, the heat of him, and he couldn't believe how much he was actually enjoying himself. There was something dizzying about the gentle way Len was using his mouth, and he sucked hard when Len started to withdraw, memorizing the way the flare of Len's cockhead felt against his palate, how the taste of latex had faded to something more manageable.

Len tugged at Barry's hair again, but Barry ignored him, wanting just a few more seconds of Len against his tongue. Len was insistent though, pulling away and bending down as he tilted Barry's head back just so he could kiss him again. Barry closed his eyes as their kiss deepened, all tongue and teeth, and Len pressed his hand to Barry's chest, pushing him back. Barry leaned on his forearms, scooting further back on the bed as Len braced his knee on the edge of the mattress, crawling up and over Barry, still keeping the lingering contact of the kiss as he swept his hand down over Barry's stomach. Barry opened his eyes again when Len broke the kiss, and he frowned when Len smirked — right before he curled his fingers around Barry's dick again. 

"I thought I was joking with the 'fast' comment."

That was something Barry could be smug about, so he grinned, stretching himself out over the width of the bed, something in him growing warm and satisfied as Len looked at him, his eyes tracking the length of Barry's arms and sweeping over him like he didn't want to miss an inch. 

"Super speed metabolism means no refractory period."

"And you've never been with someone who knows about your powers." Len nodded to himself as if he was filing that information away.

"Right. I've managed to keep it under wraps."

Len stared at Barry as if he wasn't quite sure what to do with him. "I think I'm flattered."

Barry laughed at that and relaxed against the bed, taking advantage of the lull in activity to enjoy looking at Len at a normal speed. Len turned away for a second, just long enough to pull off the condom he was wearing and throw it into the trash, and Barry leaned back, his gaze wandering the planes and angles of Len's body, the curve of his ass. Len glanced over and caught him staring. 

Barry smirked, shrugging his shoulder in response. "Can't blame me for looking."

"Enjoy the eyeful, kid," Len scoffed, and he patted Barry's thigh in a strangely affectionate, familiar way that made Barry grin as they rearranged themselves again so Barry wasn't dangling weirdly over the side of the bed anymore.

Even with the blankets and pillows beneath him, the chill in the air reminded Barry that they were, in fact, in a warehouse. Not exactly a place known for efficient heating. He rubbed his hands over his arms, chafing heat into his skin and chasing away the goosebumps, and pulled Len in again, snuggling closer.

Len took advantage, turning his head and rubbing his mouth against the line of Barry's jaw, smearing warm kisses against Barry's skin, and he nipped at the juncture of Barry's throat and shoulder, making Barry shiver in delight. 

Barry curled his legs around Len's hips, arching up for the friction that Len was apparently content to ignore, and he shuddered at the slide of Len's skin against his. He wanted Len's hand on him again, was a little too embarrassed to ask for more. Barry was already wired up from each touch, each kiss, and he'd already had the edge taken off. He couldn't even imagine why Len would decide to stop a blowjob right in the middle — and maybe Len was right. He was thinking too much and it was driving him crazy.

"Len," Barry whispered, digging his heel hard into the small of Len's back. "I'm starting to think too much again."

"What, one orgasm wasn't enough for you?" Len snagged Barry's arm and brought Barry's hand up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to his fingers. "Never thought I'd see you lose your cool like this."

Barry glared at Len on principle "Dude, could you not?" He wriggled impatiently and groaned at the drag of his cock against Len's stomach. 

Len pressed his smile against Barry's mouth, and Barry nipped Len's bottom lip, soothing the bite with a swipe of tongue. Len tilted Barry's jaw, changing the angle, and the kiss grew deep and hungry, his tongue tracing the line of Barry's teeth, the smoothness of his inner cheek. Barry wrapped his arms around Len's shoulders and went with it, kissing Len until he could feel the swell of Len's mouth against his, until his lips were chapped and he had to pull away for a moment to let his powers heal the rawness.

Len dropped his head against the curve of Barry's neck, pressing featherlight kisses to the tendon that made Barry moan and rock his hips up. Len snaked his hand down between their bodies, teasing the length of Barry's cock with his fingertips, but he refused to move any further, torturing Barry with his gentleness.

Barry swallowed convulsively and reached out to his right, patting the bedspread for the container of lube that had to be around somewhere. He found it after only a few seconds of searching by feel and slicked his hand so he could reach between them and take them both in hand together.

The groan Len muffled against Barry's throat was worth the suffering, and he tightened his legs around Len's hips, dragging him into a thrust that made both of them gasp. Len planted his hand on the mattress next to Barry's head and leaned down to kiss Barry again as they moved together.

Barry slid his free hand over the back of Len's neck, keeping him pulled in tight to kiss, and rolled his hips to meet each slick thrust, taking advantage of the lube to vibrate his hand without chafing either of them. Len breathed a sound against Barry's mouth, and his hand slid on the mattress, Barry grunting when Len landed heavily against him. It wasn't enough to stop them, and they didn't pause in their desperate kisses, in the thrust of their cocks in Barry's fist. Len's hand scrambled against the blankets until he found purchase on Barry's skin again. He gripped Barry's hip, the back of Barry's thigh, his thrusts growing harder, shorter, until he shuddered, panting against Barry's mouth

The extra shock of heat and wetness made Barry moan, and he worked Len through the aftershocks of his climax, enjoying each extra shudder he managed to earn. When Len tried to move, Barry tightened his grip on Len's neck, keeping him pressed close even as he released his grip on Len's cock. Barry took advantage of the extra slickness to take care of himself, and he hid his face against Len's shoulder as he thrust into his hand, gasping against Len's skin and biting the curve of Len's throat to keep quiet as he came a second time.

They lay together in silence for a minute, Barry still trembling with the occasional aftershock, and then Len groaned softly and rolled off of Barry, stretching out beside him. 

Barry flashed out of the bed and around the room, discovering a small bathroom off the main bedroom. It had running water, and he gratefully cleaned up before he returned to the bed. He sat awkwardly on the edge of the mattress, wondering just how long their parley was going to last.

Len, without looking at Barry, lifted his hand from where it was resting on his stomach and let it rest palm up on the center of the bed. It was an obvious invitation, and one that Barry was happy to accept. He smiled and flopped back onto the bed beside Len, satisfied to interlace their fingers and hold Len's hand if that's all that Len was capable of offering.

"So. What brought this on, anyway?" Barry asked.

Len turned on his side to face Barry and smirked. "Why shouldn't I steal what I want to steal?" He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Barry's shoulder. "And why shouldn't I kiss who I want to kiss?"

Barry scoffed. "That's interesting, coming from Captain Cold. Spontaneous isn't a word I would've used for you."

Something in Len's expression shuttered, went distant and contemplative. "Dying changes your priorities."

Barry nodded, squeezing Len's hand, and they let a quiet fall between them for the first time. Len's neck and chest were covered in purpling bruises Barry didn't remember making. He wanted to make more on purpose.

"So where does that leave us?"

"I don't know," Len admitted softly. "I didn't expect to get this far."

Barry nodded once and looked down at their entwined hands. "I expect a date before I put out again."

Len arched an eyebrow and shot a look at Barry from the corner of his eye. "They're showing a Monet at the art center. Meet you there tonight?"

Barry wrinkled his nose. "I don't know. I'm not really an art kind of— Wait." He scowled and tried to take back his hand. Len didn't let go, and if Barry was honest, he didn't actually fight all that hard. "A heist isn't the same thing as a date, jerk."

There was a hint of a smile playing at the corners of Len's mouth when he propped himself up on his elbow. "And what does the Scarlet Speedster consider a prime date night?"

"Science," Barry answered, earning a small huff of laughter from Len. "There's actually a symposium on new CRISPR discoveries over the last year in Opal City next week. I didn't want to go alone, and—" He broke off, flushing with embarrassment.

Len watched him for a long, quiet moment, that strange, sweet affection racing over his face again. "I'll get us tickets."

"I—" Barry blinked and then smiled, a little shy and disbelieving. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Len raised their clasped hands and kissed Barry's fingertips. "I'm going to be honest with you, kid. It's not gonna be easy, this thing between us. But I'm in if you are."

"Yeah." Barry nodded, already thinking about how everything could go wrong, of what Joe would say, if they could keep this going without Captain Cold and the Rogues screwing things up, without Barry losing his job for fraternizing with criminals. "I'm in."


End file.
